There Isn't Anything I Would Put In Front Of You
by The McQuaid Brothers
Summary: Set in "Mother's Little Helper", a carjack tries to take the Impala and Sam refuses, putting his life on the line in the process, something Dean isn't very happy about...This will probably become a collection of short stories and drabbles from recent to past episodes.
1. Chapter 1

**SET IN "MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER", A CARJACK TRIES TO STEAL THE IMPALA, SAM IS WILLING TO SACRIFICE HIMSELF FOR THE CAR AND DEAN ISN'T TOO HAPPY ABOUT THAT, ESPECIALLY AFTER BEING LED TO BELIEVE THAT HE WAS DEAD...**

It had been six hours since Sam had left to check out the possible hunt, and not one phone call to Dean. Was Dean worried? No, of course not, the kid could take are of himself. Okay, maybe a little.

He had thought about calling him, but Sam was usually the first to call when they were apart for a while, and he didn't want to sound like some mother hen. Besides, Sam said he could check in, it was possible he just hadn't gotten around to it yet. Maybe his phone died, maybe he didn't have any service.

On the other hand, maybe he wasn't calling because he couldn't. Because he had gotten hurt.

Dean picked up the phone and dialed Sam's number.

"Hello?" Came Sam's voice from the other line.

"Hey," Dean responded, not sure how to go about voicing his worries, "you said you'd check in, something go wrong?"

He fought to sound indifferent. Sam didn't seem to notice.

"No, just got a little lost," Sam said. Weird, that wasn't like Sam, and why did he sound so...happy? Sam was never happy, it was unlike him to be anything but broody and pensive.

"What do you mean you got a little lost-" Before Dean could finish, Sam cut him off.

"Yeah, it's a real funky town."

Dean sighed, albeit his increasing heart rate.

"Hey listen, I might not make it back, so, uh, I'm sorry. I mean, for everything. You deserved more than me. Okay, by-"

His final goodbye was cut off by the sound of a gunshot. The line went dead.

Dean couldn't move, he couldn't even think. All that was running through his mind were Sam's last words.

"You deserved more than me". What the hell did that mean? What could he possibly have thought made himself not worthy enough for Dean? Whatever it was, Sam died thinking he wasn't good enough for his big brother.

For a good hour and a half he sat there, unable to process what a terrible brother he had been. He refused to believe that his brother was gone, not when Dean hadn't had a chance to apologize him. God, he had been such a dick.

And he continued to sit, encompassing himself in his own guilt. The bunker could have caught fire and he still wouldn't give a damn about anything but Sammy. Sam was the only constant thing that truly mattered to Dean, and now he was gone.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps filled the room. He wouldn't have bothered looking up at whoever the intruder was, if he didn't immediately recognize the sound of their footfall.

Dean's eyes flicked to the doorway, as if daring himself that he was just hearing things, but when Sam's tall frame filled the space he began to question his mental reliability.

"Hey, uh, sorry about that," Sam said, momentarily leaning against the doorway. Dean took notice of the handful of cuts covering his arms, and the two recent gashes he had acquired on his neck and cheek during their recent encounter with Magnus. Most of the cuts were pretty shallow, but a steady trickle of blood traveling down Sam's temple was the thing that really caught his eye.

"Some idiot tried to jack the Impala, had to pretend, you know."

Sam spoke his words feeling a little embarrassed, he had meant what he said when he called Dean, but he didn't want Dean to know, especially with the growing tension between them.

Dean fought to process what Sam had just said.

"You mean to tell me that someone had a gun on you, and all you were worrying about was the damn car?"

Sam appeared almost sheepish.

"Well yeah, Dean, it's your car. You've treasured the thing for years, we've been riding in it since we were kids. I couldn't just let some guy take it."

"Your life was in danger and you made the car top priority."

Sam sighed.

"But-"

"No, no buts, Sam," Dean stood up, pointing an accusing finger at Sam, "you need to tell me what the hell is going on!"

As he was about to answer Sam quickly put a hand to the side of his head, feeling a wave of a dizziness as objects in his line of vision began to swirl and rotate.

The last thing he heard was Dean calling his name.

**WELL, THAT'S ALL I HAVE TIME FOR TODAY FOLKS, SHOULD I GO ON?**

_**"Hold on, hold on! You seriously think that? Because none of it - none of it - is true. Listen, man, I know we've had our disagreements, okay? Hell, I know I've said some junk that set you back on your heels. But, Sammy...come on. I killed Benny to save you. I'm willing to let this bastard and all the sons of bitches that killed mom walk because of you. Don't you dare think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you! It has never been like that, ever! I need you to see that. I'm begging you."**_

_**-Dean Winchester, season 8, "Sacrifice" **_


	2. Chapter 2

**YOU MIGHT FIND A COUPLE TYPOS :/ I'M UPDATING FROM MY PHONE**

When Sam awoke the first thing he noticed was the damp washcloth on his forehead, he reached to pull it off and felt a bandage where his attacker's bullet had grazed him.

Immediately he sat up, feeling pressure behind his eyes as a headache began to set in. After blinking repeatedly to clear his temporarily colored vision, Sam began to take notice of his surroundings. The mattress beneath him sunk under his weight.

That was when he realized he was in Dean's room. It was the "memory foam" mattress that Dean had been so proud of. Sam didn't like it much, he preferred the hard mattress of a cheap motel. It a constant thing in his life, something hard for him to come by. He could always count on it at the end of the day.

As Sam tried to assess how he ended up there, he began to think if the differences between Dean and himself when it came to the idea of a home. In their younger years, Dean was pretty used to moving around and never tried to get too comfortable, Sam, on the other hand, had always set up shop wherever they went and hoped it would last. It never did, though, their father could never manage to keep them in one place for more than a couple of weeks.

But now, since they had made the bunker their headquarters, it was Dean who had decided to get comfortable. After years and years of living on the road, Sam now didn't see the point of staying in one place. Something would always come along and he would have to leave. Besides the endless motels, however, there had always been the Impala to call home. It was part of why he had so defiantly refused to give it up.

He thought back to the event.

_He had just finished taking care of the immured souls and the possessed nun when he climbed into the Impala. _

_He hadn't even shut the door when he felt a gun at the back of his head. _

_"You gotta get me outta here, man," Came a voice from behind. _

_"Alright," Sam spoke, glancing at the rearview mirror for a glimpse of the man in the backseat. He appeared to be in his late thirties, greasy haur and a scraggly, unkempt beard overwhelmed most of his features. There were red rims around his eyes. _

_Softly shutting the door and inserting the key into the ignition, Sam did his best not to do anything to provoke the agitated individual. He felt the gun push harder against him. _

_"No, I changed my mind, you have to leave. Get out." _

_Sam fought to keep his cool. _

_"Listen, man, I can take you wherever you-" _

_"No! You don't get it, they'll find me, they're probably coming right now!"_

_Sam had no idea what the man was going on about, or who was after him. But he sure as help wasn't handing over the Impala. Stealing another glance in the mirror, he got another chance to ascertain the physical and mental health of the man behind him._

_"You get one call."_

_He heard the sound of the gun being cocked and immediately took out his cellphone. Before he had the chance to dial, Dean's caller I.D appeared on the screen. _

_"Hello?" Sam answered, trying his best to sound as casual as he could. _

_"Hey, you said you'd check in, something go wrong?" Dean asked. There was a strain in Dean's voice, but he didn't mention it. _

_"No, just got a little lost," Sam said. He didn't want his brother to jump to any conclusions, specifically like the situation he was in right now, but he knew cutting Dean off to try and sound like he was having a normal conversation was going to raise some suspicion. _

_"Hey listen, I might not make it back so, uh, I'm sorry. I mean, for everything, You deserved more than me. Okay, by-" _

_At the sound of the slightest movement from the backseat Sam ducked down to avoid getting shot. The plan that had gone through his head at that moment was to roll down so he was laying across the front seats and kick the weapon away._

_What he didn't account for was his long-ass legs._

_He guessed that the man must have gotten nervous and pulled the trigger, but for whatever reason, the gun had gone off and he had only barely moved out of the way in time. A sharp pain suddenly made itself known near his temple, he moved a hand toward the area before feeling something wet and sticky. The bullet had grazed him. So he hadn't been _that _lucky. _

_"Dammit," Sam hissed. Although he didn't unarm the guy, what he did had been enough to surprise him. A head poked put from behind the seat. Sam managed to free one of his legs that had been caught under the wheel and aimed for it. _

_Yet again, he couldn't manage to control his giraffe-like body parts, he ended up smacking the gun in the man's hand, causing it to go off again. _

_At this point, the man's eyes were wide with fear, but instead of attacking Sam at his most vulnerable, he left. Just opened the door and ran._

_Feeling disgruntled from the recent altercation, and the one he faced inside the convent, he begrudgingly closed the back door and once again piled into the front seat. The fight with the demon had taken a lot out of him, especially once his recorded exorcism failed to initiate when he pressed the wrong button, getting him successfully thrown at one of the walls of shelves lined with strange bottles and other sharp objects that cut into his skin once he slammed into them. _

_It hadn't been pleasant, but he got ths job done, and the car was safe. He only wished Dean had been there to help him._

Sam snapped back to reality once his recollection of the memory ended, and he realized he was still alone. Surveying the small lacerations and other injuries on his arm, he sadly realized the bandages, and in some cases sutures, were going to go to waste. What he had thought were his last words to Dean came back to him, and he realized what a terrible brother he had been to him lately.

He had told Dean that he wouldn't bring him back like Dean had done for him, but he never meant for him to take it as he did. He wanted Dean to have a choice when he died, if he wanted to die, then so be it. Sam wouldn't try to stop him. It still made him angry when he thought about what Dean did to him so he could continue to live, especially when he had been so ready to be done with it all. But he thought about what it would be pike to live without his older brother (again), and he sort of understood where he was coming from.

Maybe Dean had just thought he was doing what was best for Sam, knowing that he had always wanted to get out of the hunter life and meet someone, start a family. And really, after all that Dean had done for Sam, which included looking out for him their entire lives, how could Sam say those things to him?

He suddenly felt incredibly guilty, and came to such a low opinion of himself he had come to the conclusion that maybe the world was just better off without him. Including Dean.

Yes, the stitches and bandages his brother had given him would certainly be going to waste.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**_"Sam listen to me. I made you a promise, in that church. You and me. Come whatever. Well, hell, if this ain't whatever. But you gotta let me in man. You gotta let me help. There ain't no me if there ain't no you!" _**

_ **- Dean Winchester, Season 9, I Think I'm Goin To Like It Here**_


End file.
